


Plenilunium

by Captain_Redbeard



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Eventual Romance, F/M, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-25
Updated: 2019-05-12
Packaged: 2019-08-07 13:52:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 8,383
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16409684
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Captain_Redbeard/pseuds/Captain_Redbeard
Summary: A few years after the war for the dawn has been won, Arya Stark finds herself in Kings Landing once more.





	1. Chapter 1

"The sun sees your body, the moon sees your soul"

 

 

 

 

 

"I want you to take him with you to Winterfell."

"You would make him an orphan then? He has already lost a mother; he should not have to lose a father as well", Arya said looking at the child sleeping peacefully in his cot.

She turned to face her cousin, Jon Snow. Though now he was more Targaryen than Snow, ruler and monarch of the seven kingdoms. Much had changed in the years following the defeat of the army of the dead. The North was slowly recovering after the devastation the war for the dawn had caused. Whereas the South was progressing slowly but surely under the watchful eye of her cousin.

However, winter had found it's way into Jon's life once again with the death of Daenerys Targaryen, his wife and the mother of his son and heir, Aemon. So it was that Arya found herself in the city that she had long avoided. When she had received Jon's message asking her to come to him; she could not refuse. 

"I have the burden of seven kingdoms on my shoulders Arya. I will not have my son thrown at the mercy of strangers. In Winterfell, he will be surrounded by family. I know you will love him and protect him as your own", Jon replied as walked to sit wearily on the throne chair. 

Arya observed Jon as she moved closer to him. She placed her hand on his shoulder and gently squeezed.

"I know you grieve still. That is natural Jon. But think on what you propose. When will you get to see your son if you send him North with me? Or are you going to journey to Winterfell every chance you get, just to see him?", she asked trying gently to make him see sense.

 

Jon took her hand from his shoulder, kissed it and held it between both of his own.

"The North is far from here, this is true. But that is exactly what I want. I do not want my son to grow up thinking that the throne is his birthright. I want him to understand that to rule is a burden. That his duty is to see to his peoples' welfare. I want him to understand the values we were brought up with. Besides that, many of the Southern lords have already hinted that what my son needs is a mother. Of course, what each lord truly wants is to make his daughter a queen. My son is nothing more than an afterthought. They do not seem to understand that I will never marry again", he said with a hint of steel on his voice.

 

So he truly loved her then, Arya thought to herself. She was not surprised; after all Daenerys Targaryen was famed for her beauty. Any man with eyes in his head would fallen for her loveliness. But when all that grace and comeliness was solely focused on any one individual, such a man would have found it impossible to remain impervious. That Daenerys had fallen for her cousin was plain for all the world to see. However, Jon had always been difficult to read. Her restrained and quiet Jon had never been  open with his feelings. Now it became clear to Arya that he had loved his wife with all his heart and her absence left him shattered.

"Never is a long time cousin. Surely, with time...", Arya started to say but was interrupted.

 

"My mind is made up about this Arya. Even you will not be able to change it", Jon stated.

 

 _'That stung'_ , Arya thought to herself. Once she had been able to change his mind with a smile. But that Jon was lost to her now. Suddenly, her heart ached for the boy who had once been her other half. 

She sighed, pulling her hand from Jon's as she turned and walked to the child in the cot. Aemon Targaryen was all Stark, every bit his father; except for his mother's violet eyes. She felt her heart melt as she stared at the two year old, sleeping the sleep of the innocent. It would not be so bad, she thought to herself to have someone to love again, a child that reminded her of the boy she mourned even now.

She bent to gently cradle the child in her arms. Ever so slowly she lifted him so as not to wake him from his sleep and turned to the man she could only recognise as King Jon Targaryen now.

"As you say, Your Grace. The Starks will be all the family Aemon needs. I will be his mother and his father and anything else he may need. Only I'd to say a word before I take my leave. You know only too well what it is to feel like an outsider, to be part of a family and still feel lonely. That you would try to afflict the same fate on your own flesh and blood is beyond my understanding. You loved your wife, I understand this. Your heart is broken and it probably feels like you will never be whole again. I understand what it is to lose someone you love. But Aemon is deserving of your love too, he still lives Jon!"

With that Arya walked to the chamber's entrance and knocked on the doors. They swung open, two guards stood outside waiting for her departure to close the heavy set doors again.

 

For some reason, to her horror Arya felt tears fill her eyes. Did she cry for herself she wondered? For a nine year old, skinny little girl who has lost her father in this very city. For the woman who loved a man whose heart would never belong to her the way her's belonged to him or did she cry for the little boy in her arms. A child she felt a strange connection to. 

"I shall say my farewell now, Your Grace. We depart at first light".

 

She had almost completely left the chambers when Jon heard her whisper, "You disappoint me cousin."

 


	2. Chapter 2

Jon heard the doors close and felt as if all the good in his world had been extinguished. 

He could feel the Gods laughing at his misery. He was never supposed to end up like this, he thought to himself.

He had met Daenerys some time after he'd been brought back from the void. Something had pulled him out of the silence and thrust him back into his body. Whether it had been the Red Witch's devilry or something else; he knew not. He only knew that he did not come back as he should've, _'I want my bride back'_... 

His feelings, his very thoughts had altered. They'd become...he had become more _dark_. His desire to find Arya and to save her, became the reason for his existence. Sleep did not come to him very often, and when it did; he dreamt only of her. Those dreams shamed him. Shamed him because in his dreams she became not his sister but his bride. 

Not once did he see her face in his dreams, just flashes of dark hair and cool, grey eyes and he'd know it was her. The things he did in those dreams, the things they'd both do; would make him want to rip his heart out upon awakening. He would spend all day battling with the monster inside him only for the night to destroy his good intentions. It was as if the moon unleashed his darkest self. Though no matter what time it was, night or day, his need to save Arya grew. 

When he stood on the grounds outside Winterfell waiting for the battle to commence, his gaze kept returning to the castle and the girl held within. Nothing could have prevented him from getting to her then...not when he was so close. So he had taken all his rage, his confusion, and longing and turned it upon his enemies. People who had dared to hurt her. Tormund had told him later that he had never seen any man fight like that before, he'd become more beast than man. 

But when the battle had been won and Winterfell reclaimed; victory turned to ashes in his mouth. _She_ wasn't there. She never had been...it had been Jeyne Poole all along. That night Ghost howled at the moon and many other wolves joined in his song. Their howls scared the others, but not him. They were grieving, as he was because once again; he'd lost her.

 

From then on, circumstances made it impossible for him to continue his search for Arya. The dead were coming and all of the North looked to him to lead them. Just when he'd lost all hope of finding Arya or any of his family again, Sansa arrived at Winterfell. Not long after, Bran returned and still his heart mourned. A few weeks later they received a message from Daenerys Targaryen inviting him to come to Dragonstone to discuss terms. What really mattered to Jon was her dragons, for dragons were fire made flesh and in the coming fight they would have a terrible need of fire.

When Arya finally did arrive at Winterfell, many things had changed. He had been with Daenerys, had lain with her; thinking Arya was lost to him forever. His heart had never stopped longing for her, but his mind told him he would never find her again. And even if he did...what he wanted could never come to pass. 

When he saw Arya again she didn't look like a lady, she was dressed as a boy; but it suited her. Her face had matured and her eyes, that had long haunted his dreams were as beautiful as he remembered. The sword he'd given her, 'Needle' she'd called it was with her still. He had wrapped his arms around to feel her warmth, wanting to make certain she wasn't a dream and felt as if he'd come home again. But then a light touch on his shoulder had drawn him back to reality and looking at Daenerys's questioning eyes made him release his hold.

He tried to tell himself it was enough that Arya was alive, that she'd returned to them. But at night, the moon would make a liar and a cheat out of him. In his arms lay Daenerys, but still he dreamt of grey eyes. In his efforts to conceal the truth, he fought with himself. But each time Arya came near him, his feelings would grow out of bounds.

He knew for a certainty that if she ever discovered the truth of his feelings for her, she would come to despise him. She would come to hate him and that would be worse than dying. In his desperation, he pledged himself to Daenerys; relinquishing the rule of Winterfell to Bran. 

He could bring himself to forget, he reasoned with himself, if he removed himself from Arya. He had survived without her before, he could do so again. Daenerys's love would make him forget and in return he would love her. If he survived the war...he would leave with Daenerys; if he did not survive, his torment would end still.

 

But, when had anything in his life been simple. Bran had called him to the weirwood tree a few days before the war for the dawn and revealed that he was a Stark, but not through Eddard, he was Lyanna and Rhaegar's son. A dragon raised among wolves. He remembered thinking his life had been a lie one second and in the other he thought _'She's not my sister...not my blood'._ Then he remembered his pledge to Daenerys and felt nothing at all. He had given her his word, but try as he might...his heart stubbornly remained Arya's.

 

* * *

 

 

 

Breaking away from his thoughts, Jon got up from the chair and walked through the arched opening to a moon-light drenched balcony. His son would be loved and safe at Winterfell.

He had failed Daenerys, he had failed Arya, he had failed himself....but he would not fail Aemon.

All that he had ever loved in this world would leave him come morning. He smiled mirthlessly, he had once told Arya that sometimes different roads led to the same castle. But their paths had always been different. No matter how much he wanted it to be otherwise. She would never be his, but he would love her all his life. That was his great glory and his great tragedy.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, yeah...Jon is not what he seems; as always.
> 
> Hopefully, you enjoy reading this. Please excuse any errors of grammar or typing or any other sort. This was written in a hurry.
> 
> Also, drop a comment if you like what you've read. Writers really, really, really like comments. Trust me.


	3. Chapter 3

_"You will marry a king, and your sons shall be knights, princes, lords and yes, perhaps even a high septon", her father's voice rang out; firm and clear._

"Father?", she called out desperately as she tried to find him. "Father, where are you?", she shouted.

She walked along the darkened corridor, with the mist rolling at her feet. There was a light coming from the opening just ahead of her, but the more she walked the further away it drew from her.

"Father wait for me", Arya shouted as she increased her gait to a run. 

_"You were born in the long summer, sweet one....so too will your first born", his voice said again._

"Please Father, stay; stay with me this time or let me stay with you", she cried out as she kept running and suddenly tears were blurring her vision. She felt herself stumble and fall on her knees.

When next she raised her head again she found herself in the Godswood with the ancient Weirwood tree in front. Sunlight streamed softly through the leaves, but all was quiet. There were no birds chirping; not even the wind moved. 

Arya got to her feet slowly, but her eyes kept darting around the forest. The words she'd heard had been uttered by Ned Stark once; and it had been long, oh so long since she had heard his beloved voice. Though now she wanted to see his face, she wanted to feel him wrapping his arms around her.

Her eyes fell again on the pool besides the Weirwood tree and she could see the water rippling as if something had disturbed it's surface. The waters within the pool were dark but she found her form reflected on the surface when she drew close enough. The small waves undulated gently, almost hypnotically she thought. She crouched down as if she were compelled and slowly extended her hand to touch the surface. 

The minute her fingers touched the water, it seemed to calm. She felt the cool water relax her as she plunged her hand deeper.

It was then she heard it, as faint as a sigh; a voice unlike any other she had heard whisper her name, _"Arya"_.

Quickly she turned her head to investigate, seeing nothing and then felt herself gasp as something in the water tugged on her hand. She looked back at her hand in the water in terror, the more she struggled to free herself the more the water pulled her in. 

Moments later, she heard it again, _"Arya";_ until one whisper became many and turned into a chant. 

With her hand submerged upto her elbow she was fast losing her balance and in her desperation she cried out.  _"Is there anyone here? Please...somebody help"_

That was all she could utter for in the next moment, she felt a mighty wrench and she fell...head first. 

.

.

.

_"First lesson...stick them with the pointy end.”_

_“I know which end to use”._

_._

_._

_“I don’t _want_ to be a lady!”_

_You remind me of her sometimes. You even look like her.”_

_._

_._

_"It is time to begin growing up...sweet one"_  

.

.

.

She felt herself being pulled closer to a warm body. Strong arms were wrapped around her waist and she felt soft lips touch her neck.

_"I know you are awake, my love. I could always tell when you were pretending; even when we were children"_

Arya opened her eyes to sunlight. She was in a chamber unlike hers, everything in this room was...grand. Almost as if it belonged to _royalty._

The arms around her waist tightened and the lips at her neck grew bolder until she felt a soft nip.

 _"Turn around and look at me little wolf",_ the honeyed, laughing voice said cajolingly. _"You know you want to.."_

Arya felt her heart race as she recognised the voice. _'Jon', she thought to herself._ But how could it be...and why would she be lying in bed with Jon kissing her neck. Though his lips felt as if they belonged on her skin. She felt herself draw closer to him. It this was a dream, she wanted it to continue on. 

 _"Arya"_ she heard him say with mirth _"It is surely a little late to be shy with me now love...after all these months"_

Arya stiffened and turned back to look at her bed partner in amazement.

"Months?" , she wanted to ask, but when she looked at him; all thought went flying out of her mind. He looked so at ease, so much like Jon, her Jon. His eyes were alive with joy and ...love?

 _"You think it feels like it's been longer? Are you trying to tell me you're bored, little wolf?"_ , he asked arching a brow.

Before she could answer, he had her on her back as he loomed over her. 

 _"I would not have my queen bored"_ , he said softly as his lips touched hers.

.

.

.

_"Queen?"_

* * *

 

She awoke to a babe's cry.

"Aemon", she gasped as she rushed out of bed to the cot placed next to it. 

She bent to pick up her nephew, who immediately stopped crying as he felt her touch. 

"There now little one, there's no need to fret. You're safe now. I'll always keep you safe", she spoke softly.

Wide, violet eyes looked at her and took in the surroundings. Then swiftly, the babe smiled cheekily and Arya felt her heart melt.

"A charmer aren't you? Like your father?", she said as she ticked his belly. 

"Come on then, little man. It is time to go back to bed", but as soon as the she lowered Aemon in the crib, he let out a wail.

"Alright, alright. No need to go all sour. How about a song then, hmm? How about we sit in this chair, next to the fire and sing a little song?", she spoke to him softly as she settled him on her arm with his head on her shoulder.

"Let's see. What songs do I remember?...Seven Hells! Why is it that I can't remember any songs but the bawdy ones?", she asked herself exasperatedly.

Aemon had lifted his head to look at her.

"Don't look at me like that. Bawdy songs are a lot more fun than the ones about a boy and a girl and their ...aha! I do remember one song...what was it that Tom wouldn't shut up about?"

 _"My featherbed is deep and soft"_ , she softly crooned 

_ and there I'll lay you down, _

_I'll dress you all in yellow silk,_

_ and on your head a crown. _

_For you shall be my lady love,_

_ and I shall be your lord. _

_I'll always keep you warm and safe,_

_ and guard you with my sword. _

_And how she smiled and how she laughed,_

_ the maiden of the tree. _

_She spun away and said to him,_

_ no featherbed for me." _

__

When she looked at Aemon again, she saw he had fallen asleep. As she ran her hand gently through his curls he burrowed his face deeper in her neck. It felt right to have him  close to her heart, as if he belonged in her arms somehow. 

Their journey to Winterfell had not been easy and despite what she had thought earlier, she realised that Aemon had been deeply attached to his father. Jon had not been neglectful of him. Which made his decision to send Aemon so far away from himself even more confusing.

She had not spoken to Jon again after that night in his chambers and when Jon had come to say goodbye to Aemon, she had excused herself; for her heart was still raw at his behavior.  His words had more power to hurt her than the strongest blow from any weapon and in her anger she had refused to let him make amends. Yet when she remembered his eyes as they left, his hauntingly sad eyes...all her anger had drained from her. He had looked as if he had lost all that he held dear in the world.

Now she felt guilty for behaving as she had. She imagined him all alone in Kings Landing, with no one to comfort him and felt her heart break. Perhaps, the Southern Lords were right  she thought and felt her heart break further still.

Perhaps, Jon did need a queen...

" _I would not have my queen bored"_

Her heart sped up as she remembered her dream. Had it been a dream? she wondered. Whatever it had been, for those few minutes when she had been in Jon's arms...everything was right in the world. Everything. She had felt at home, more at home there in his arms than she did at Winterfell. She had fallen asleep to a enchanting illusion and had awakened to it's burden. 

While forcing herself to stop thinking about the dream, she lifted out of the chair gently with Aemon in her arms. Such illusions were dangerous she thought as she walked towards her bed, for they brought temporary relief to a permanent ache.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Right, so I like angst ...what can I say.
> 
> First, of I know the choice of song was weird...but to me there was something very ironic about Arya singing that song as she rocked Aemon to sleep. The song could be interpreted as a young Baratheon boy's interest in a she-wolf. Yet, here we have a she-wolf singing the very same song to a dragon prince; whose father is the love of her life.
> 
> Also, I wanted to highlight Arya's protective and maternal instincts; which can be seen very clearly in her interactions with Weasel. It's something we don't get to read about very often.
> 
> Lastly, the dream Arya has...well, that was prompted by two things. Halloween and the fact that Stark children have some kick-ass magical abilities...so why can't their dreams be prophetic ?
> 
> I have borrowed Ms. Woolf's quote and have changed it a bit to fit my tale...the actual one goes like this "I sleep among ravishing illusions and wake to their burden.” 
> 
> Anyways, here's hoping you enjoyed the chapter and I wish you all good fortune in the wars to come. 
> 
> Till later.


	4. Chapter 4

Bran watched from the bridge as his sister taught their nephew to walk in the courtyard beneath.

 

Perhaps their mother, Lady Catelyn had once stood exactly where Arya stood now; teaching one of her own babes how to take their first steps, he thought with sadness.

 

He watched as Aemon clung to Arya's hands with a mixture of trust and fear, but he knew that no matter what Arya wouldn't let him stumble or fall. She would never let anything harm the little boy. She was loath to let the world see how soft-hearted she truly was and that she was more loving and nurturing than most.

 

“She adores him, doesn't she?”, a voice asked behind him.

 

Bran smiled. His wife was a lot like his sister in matters of stealth, he had not heard her approach. Meera bent to kiss her husband and lay her head on his shoulder; waiting for his answer.

 

“How could she not? That is Jon's son and Arya loves anything that Jon holds dear.”, Bran replied.

 

“You realise that she loves Jon too?”, she stated.

 

“Of course, she loves him; she always has.”

 

“I mean she loves him as a woman loves a man. Not a...not a familial sort of love Bran.”, Meera clarified.

 

Bran turned his slightly to find her lips and kissed her before answering, “Her love simply grew and matured as she did. To her, loving Jon comes as naturally as breathing. Even as children, Jon meant more to her than everyone else combined. Only Father was ahead of Jon in my sister's affections.”

 

“So now we know why all those proposals were turned away.”

 

“I've always known my lady-wife. However, had Arya expressed the slightest interest in any of those suits I would have had no compunction in giving her my blessing.”

 

“Some of the Northern lords have expressed their interest in my good-sister for their sons lately”, Meera informed him.

 

Bran sighed as he shifted slightly in his chair. “I will not force her Meera. Not after all that she has been through...not after all that we have been through. Besides, any child of ours may inherit Winterfell. If not our children then any of Rickon's heirs may inherit. I want Arya to be happy now, I want her to feel safe here at Winterfell.”

 

He felt Meera smile. “I knew there was a reason I loved you Brandon Stark.”

 

“So you admit it then? That you, Lady Meera formerly of House Reed love your husband, the Lord of Winterfell and Warden of the North?”

 

“Of course not”, came the pert reply. “I married you only for your lands and titles”

 

“And for my prowess as a lover?”, Bran asked laughing out loud now.

 

“That most of all”, his wife replied as she gently nipped his ear.

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

 

Lord Davos stood observing the King. The members of the Great Council sat at the excessively large table, surrounding him. A part of him was exceedingly proud at how the boy had matured into a man. Another part of him wished that sometimes Jon Targaryen would say to hell with duty and just do what he wanted.

 

He remembered when Lord Stannis had first offered to legitimize him. Jon Snow had replied _“...kings have legitimized bastards before, but … I am still a brother of the Night’s Watch. I knelt before a heart tree and swore to hold no lands and father no children...”._ But fate worked in mysterious ways. Jon Snow may have been a brother of the Night's Watch, but his own brothers had killed him. The Jon that returned to them was another creature entirely. Perhaps, not entirely different; but something fundamental within him had changed.

 

Jon Targaryen went on become King of the Seven Kingdoms and was the father of a young dragon prince. But even before he had been killed, Jon Snow had been willing to set aside his vows, his very honour to save Arya Stark. The mere mention of her alive and in trouble had been enough to sway the young man when offers of land and lordship could not. It was then that Lord Davos had understood what the slim, young lady of Stark truly meant to the man he called his King. He had died for her, and Lord Davos wasn't entirely sure if Jon hadn't returned to the land of the living for the very same reason.

 

What he could not understand was why Jon still held back. He was free now to marry her, she was his cousin not his sister after all. But still the King kept himself restrained in chains of stronger substance than perhaps Valyrian steel.

 

If he had any doubts about the King's affections before they had dissolved when he learned that Aemon's upbringing had been turned over to the Starks, particularly Arya Stark. _'Perhaps_ ', he thought to himself, _'it would be better to speak to the King in clear words about the matter, before some ambitious Lord claimed the young beauty for himself'_. His mind was made and now he only required a private audience to speak to the King.

 

 

As luck would have it, he was able to speak to the King privately as soon as the Great Council had been dismissed.

 

“Your Grace, a word in private if I may”, he spoke to the King when the last of his advisors had departed.

 

Jon sat back down again looking resigned, but his voice was level when said, “What is it that you want to speak to me about my Lord Hand?”

 

Lord Davos still found it strange when the King addressed him as 'Lord Hand', a small part of him was certain it was plain pay-back for every time he refused to refer to the King as anything other than 'Your Grace'; even when they were alone.

 

Davos realised the gravity of the matter he was to speak to the King about. His nerves, as tempered as they were, felt a little frayed. He cleared his throat, gathered his courage and said, “I would like to speak to you about your cousin, Your Grace”

 

“I have four cousins Lord Davos, and one cousin-sister. To whom are you referring?”,the King asked smiling.

 

“The one you happen to love, Your Grace”

 

He watched as the King's eyes hardened before him, and darkened as if to herald the coming storm.

 

“Be very careful about the choice of your words Lord Davos. I would trust you with my life, but not even you are allowed to take certain liberties.”

 

Lord Davos inclined his head quickly as if to show his remorse and spoke gently, “My King, I meant no offence and I have nothing but your best interest at heart. I have seen you with lady Stark, that you love her...is plain for me to see because of our long association. You are free to marry her now without any worry and certainly, she would get no better proposal. You are King of the Seven Kingdoms and she hails from a family as ancient and distinguished as the land you rule. Why then do you hold back?”

 

The years had taught Jon how mask his feelings and now his face was wiped clean of any expression. It made him appear more menacing somehow and Lord Davos felt vaguely nervous. _'It is too late for regret now'_ Lord Davos thought _'better to go all the way'._

 

“You have said your piece and I have listened. But do not try my patience or my respect for you by bringing this subject up again”, Jon said softly, with his eyes blazing.

 

As Jon got up to leave, Lord Davos found the last dregs of his courage and tried again. “She will not wait forever, Your Grace. Nor will the Lords of Westeros who already sing praises of her beauty and valor. Is that what you truly want? For her to marry some Lord and bear his children when they could so easily be yours. For once in your life reach out and take your happiness...there is no sense is losing your love all over again.”

 

He could not see the King's face, not with his back turned towards him. But he did see his shoulders tense and hear him breathe deep.

 

“She deserves so much better. As a child she dreamt of building castles and being Lord of a holdfast. I know her better than anyone, and that is how I know that this life and all it's constraints would crush her beneath their burden.”, Jon replied speaking softly.

 

“We dream of many things as children, Your Grace. Lady Arya has more than proved her strength, I think you judge her ill. If she truly loved a man, I believe she would share not just his joy but his burdens as well. Love that survives decades, across continents and countless tests does not quake at the prospect of some responsibility.”

 

But the only answer he received was silence as the King exited the council chamber quietly. 

 

"All things considered that went quite well", Lord Davos said to himself. After all he still had his head attached to his body and he was not ready to concede defeat just yet.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok so a little filler of a chapter was necessary to lay some groundwork.
> 
> But worry not we shall be back to Jonrya goodness in no time. 
> 
> I just want to take a moment and THANK YOU ALL (yes in bold letter because its super important) for all the love and appreciation all of you have shown me since I started this story. I just hope I can live up to your expectations. 
> 
> Please continue to show your support and comment, even if you just have a question or criticisms or even if you just feel like talking Jonrya <3
> 
> Once again, much love from me and a big, huge thank you to you all <3<3


	5. Chapter 5

In the North, the time of the fall harvest was an important event. When the citadel sent out word of autumn's arrival, the respective houses would begin storing grain; and distributing it among the people accordingly. It was the start of preparations for the impending arrival of winter; and who knew winter better than the Starks?

The greater the harvest, the greater the cause people had for celebration. Though, this year the North had taken it upon themselves to descend upon Winterfell in droves, because this year Winterfell would have the honor of hosting the King. 

Arya watched from the window as the courtyard below presented a vision of chaos. Servants scurried to and fro, squires milled about trying to do the bidding of knights and in the midst of it all musicians and jugglers amused the crowds. Her chambers had remained immune from the madness though, she thought and was grateful for it. 

She, Aemon and Nymeria had escaped to her chambers some time earlier in the day and they had remained ensconced within ever since.She was hiding she knew; but there was a strange sort of feeling in the pit of her stomach -- a hollowness that seemed to grow as the day of Jon's arrival drew near.

She loved him she admitted to herself. It had been a long time since she'd made peace with that fact. She had loved him as a babe, when she was a gangly, skinny little girl and now she loved him as woman. She had never had much say in the matter. Almost as if there was never a time when she had not loved her cousin one way or another. As though  she had no control over that part of herself and that scared her.

She could control almost every aspect of her being. Her expressions, her words, her movement and to an extent her fate. But her heart, she couldn't stop loving Jon anymore than she could stop breathing. Still, now his thoughts didn't uplift her as they once had... _"Jon will want me, even if no one else does"_.

Now, her thoughts of him were accompanied with a sweet ache and a bitter knowledge of loss. 

A childlike giggle interrupted her reflection. She turned to see Aemon attempting to climb atop her direwolf. Whereas Nymeria remained stretched upon the ground looking serene. It was strange to see her fierce direwolf treat little Aemon so gently. 

Arya observed as Aemon sought to pull himself on to Nymeria's back by clutching great handfuls of her fur, though looking at Nymeria's half shut eyes he may as well have been nothing more than a vexing, little fly. 

"Well, well, what do we have here? Is it Aemon Targaryen, the Direwolf Knight and his ferocious companion, Nymeria?", Arya asked laughing as she reached down to settle Aemon properly onto Nymeria's back. Aemon's cackle induced her to let loose one of her own and soon both of them were laughing like loons. 

 

Arya gently lifted Aemon and settled him on her hip. "Have I told you much I love you little one?", she asked as she gently kissed his cheek. She received a much livelier and sloppier kiss in return. 

"Right then, let us go and get something for you to fill your belly with", she said once she had gently wiped his face and her own with her sleeve.

Just as they were about to reach the door,it swung open and in walked her sister with an annoyed expression on her face.

"Do you have any idea how long I've been looking for you Arya Stark?", Sansa asked.

"I have a feeling I'm about to find out, Lady Tyrell", she replied pertly and Aemon suddenly clapped as if in encouragement.

Sansa looked from Aemon to Arya and sighed."We all know why Aemon behaves the way he does; he's a mere two years of age. But you sister are way past your childhood. I asked at least four hours ago to go to Mistress Dulcina for your fitting. Yet, when I visited her not minutes prior she informed me that you had never appeared and your gown remains incomplete."

"Sansa, I promise I will go visit your seamstress just as soon as I have Aemon fed", Arya replied as she quickly made her way to the door.

"No you certainly will not", her sister's voice stopped her in her path. Sansa walked up to her and took Aemon in her arms. "You will go straight to Mistress Dulcina. She maybe the best seamstress in all of the Reach, but a miracle worker she is not. I will take care of Aemon in the meantime."

Arya looked on helplessly as Aemon settled happily in Sansa's arms.  _'Little traitor'_ , she thought. Now she had no excuse to avoid the utterly boring experience of standing still for hours on end while she measured and swathed in cloth.  

She sighed long and deep, causing Sansa to lift her brow, but her sister's expression remained resolute. 

"Oh alright then. I'm going", she replied and she resignedly turned to go.

When a word stopped her dead in her tracks.

_"Ma-ma"_

__

Arya turned to see Sansa looking just as incredulous as she felt. 

"Did he just...", she started to say 

"Ma-ma", Aemon said in his sweet voice again as he lifted his arms clearly wanting to go to Arya.

"The Mother above bless us! Arya, he thinks, he thinks...", Sansa stammered.

 

"I know", Arya replied faintly as moved to take Aemon.

 

"Perhaps it's better you come with us Sansa. You can sit with Aemon and feed him while I get the fitting done. He seems to want to stay with me for now."

"Of course" Sansa agreed. "You know Arya..."

"Seven Hells! Sansa, what he said is hardly surprising. He's not old enough to know he's my nephew. Please take that scheming look of your face, dear sister."

Sansa sniffed as if offended. "I was not  _scheming_ , merely thinking about future possibilities."

"Indeed? Well I'd rather you just focus on _your_ future possibilities, for example; will the babe you carry be a boy or a girl?", Arya asked as she saw Sansa's eyes grow wide.

 

"How did you...?", Sansa began to ask but Arya turned and left the room feeling rather smug.

 

She had changed the topic rather cleverly because it did not take a fortune teller to see where Sansa's thoughts were headed. As it was, the woman was always thinking about marriage...her marriage to be exact. But she couldn't say that hearing Aemon call her 'ma-ma' hadn't made her heart melt. The world and it's problems could wait, she mused, for now she only wanted to focus on the little boy in her arms and love she felt for him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So it appears that Jon and Arya will be meeting each other again soon enough. Only this time we have plenty of others who seem to understand that these two belong together. So hopefully, lots of loving meddlesome behaviour will materialise.
> 
> Sansa is married to Willas Tyrell in this story. As to why she has returned to Winterfell will become clearer later on.
> 
> Aemon and Arya seem to be growing closer and closer and I find that just adorable. Their interaction is a lot of fun to write about so hopefully it is just as much fun reading about it for all of you.
> 
> Also, as always be very, very generous with your comments and thoughts and let me know how you think the story is progressing. It makes my day knowing people are truly enjoying what I write.
> 
> Till next time...


	6. Chapter 6

Riding in to Winterfell with such pomp and ceremony felt odd. He had spent all of his childhood here after all. Then he had been Jon Snow, the bastard born son of Eddard Stark and that is how the people living there had known him. These days, he was King Jon Targaryen only and Jon Snow may as well have been a figment of his imagination.

Amongst the many changes he had seen in his life, people referring to him as 'Your Grace' where ever he went, and bowing and bending all over themselves was not the most burdensome development...but it came close to being the most irritating.

His cousins had all assembled at the east gate to greet him and his company. Bran, his little brother was now Warden of the North, Jon thought with pride; and his people loved him, just as they had their father before him. He had not expected Sansa's presence, but she looked genuinely pleased to see him, as did Lady Meera. 

But the two people he had wanted to see most were absent from the greeting party.

 

On his journey North his thoughts had been occupied with what he would say to Arya when he saw her again. It had been months since last they had been in each other's presence and he'd hoped that the passage of time would've helped lessen her ire. Her absence told him his hope had been foolish. He of all people should have known better; his little wolf knew how to nurse grievances. 

Angry or not, he was anxious to see her again and so, as soon as pleasantries had been exchanged Jon took Bran aside. Though before he could say anything Bran stated, "They're both in the Godswood. I'm certain she lost track of time playing with Aemon."

Jon smiled. "Surely Aemon is a little young to be playing in the Godswood?"

"You misunderstand brother. Aemon merely accompanies Arya. It is Arya who does most of the playing. I am certain they would not mind if you were to join them. I'll inform everyone here that you've gone to crypts to pay your respects."

"I like the way you think Lord Stark", Jon replied in all seriousness.

 

"I thought you might, Your Grace.", came the reply.

 

 

* * *

 

The Southerners had never come to appreciate the silent and dark beauty of a godswood. Most of them found such places oppressive. The Northerners were of a different opinion though, Jon mused as he ventured deeper into the Godswood of Winterfell. He felt a comforting stillness envelope him. His breathing calmed as if by magic and he felt like he'd come home after a long, tiresome journey.

The stillness permeating the forest was broken not a second later however, with the sound of laughter. Jon found himself following the sounds of mirth until he came upon a scene that made his heart stop. 

_She_ stood in one of the hot spring pools with Aemon in her arms.

 

Her gown was artfully tucked in at the waist revealing her shapely legs. Jon watched entranced as Arya slowly bent to cup some water in her hand, only to throw it above her head. The action caused little droplets of water to rain down upon her and Aemon. Aemon let out another laugh while clapping his hands in glee.

As sweet as his son looked in that moment, Jon felt his eyes being pulled towards Arya's form. With good reason. The drops of water on her face caught the sunlight, causing them to appear as tiny pearls; irradiating her features. Her dark hair fell down her back swaying to and fro, drawing attention to her trim waist.

 

_She looked like every dream he'd ever had come to life; standing there with his son in her arms._

And there in that moment, he accepted that without her, he would never feel whole. He was tired, so tired of fighting himself and he wanted nothing more to marry the woman standing before him and Gods-willing make a family with her. There and then he resolved to do all in his power to make Arya fall in love with him, to get her to agree to marry him. With his mind made up he moved forward to announce his presence, but before he could do so his son caught sight of him and did the deed for him.

"Dada", he said.

Jon saw Arya's back stiffen as she slowly turned around. Her face remained somewhat impassive, but Jon saw her eyes light up. She was happy to see him, he thought, as his heart beat faster.

"Jon, you're here. I must have lost track of time. I...we meant to be there to greet you.", she said as she slowly wadded through the knee deep water. Before she had reached the pool's end Jon was there helping her climb out.

"Bran said as much. I thought that...perhaps you were still angry with me. So I came here looking for you. To speak with you and apologize..."

"You've no need to apologize. I am not wroth with you. I should never have spoken to you the way I did at Kings Landing..."

"You can speak to me however you like little wolf. As long as you keep talking...your silence is not a thing I can bear. There are many things that I have to tell you, many things that I need to explain. I want us to be close Arya; the way we were",  _'much closer than that' , h_ is heart whispered as he drew Arya closer to him and gently kissed her forehead. 

The moment his lips touched her skin, Arya felt her eyes close as her lungs emptied of air. Being close to Jon  was the only thing she'd ever truly wanted. She did not want to listen to the voice in her head telling her to pull away; that she would only get hurt yet again. But Jon's lips still lingered on her forehead and the kiss felt nothing like a brotherly peck.  _'Just once'_ she thought _'Just this once, let me enjoy this sensation fully'_.

They both stood there, lost in each other. Both wishing for time to stop for the time being. For the world to let them have this moment of togetherness; when both felt a tiny hand pry between Jon's lips and her forehead as Aemon squirmed in between them.

 

Clearly, the little prince had not liked being forgotten.

 

As soon as Jon's head moved back a little, Aemon kissed Arya's chin sloppily and said "Mama" and then he giggled.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yayy...they're together again and all it took for Jon's resolve to melt was Arya's shapely legs *wink* *wink*
> 
> Jokes aside, now the fun can truly begin. Also, don't go blaming Aemon for disturbing the scene just yet. I forsee great things in that young man's future :D
> 
> Once again, I hope you guys enjoy reading this. Have fun and let me know what you thought about the chapter.
> 
> Till later...


	7. chapter 7

Jon sighed as he looked out the window in his chambers. His little wolf was being difficult. He had tried to get her to be alone with him, several times, and, she had evaded his every attempt. She was actively avoiding him, he realised, and it put him on edge.

Each day, more of the Northern Bannermen arrived for the fall harvest, and Jon could see their eyes assessing Arya. They were all eager to make an alliance with House Stark. It did not help that her beauty grew with each new moon, nor that she was hailed as the 'Rose of Winterfell'. Thankfully, Arya had shown little to no interest in any of their attempts to gain her attention. She chose to spend all her time with his son, Aemon.

He smiled as he remembered being envious of the lavish attention she showered on his son. However, the saner part of him exulted in the fact that she loved his son unconditionally. She had loved him like that once. Now, it fell to him to remind her of that fact. If he could only get her to stay still long enough.

His reverie was interrupted when the door to his chambers was opened without any announcement.

"The Northern Lords are requesting your presence cousin", Bran said as he stopped his chair not too far from where Jon stood.

"Bran do you where Arya is?", Jon asked straightaway without any preamble.

Bran smiled and stayed quiet a little too long for Jon's liking.

"She has just left Aemon with Meera to visit the Godswood. She said she felt hounded almost, and needed to get away for a while."

Jon had the grace to look uncomfortable for a moment before he realised the information Bran had imparted.

"She's avoiding me for some reason."

"I imagine it's because she feels anxious.", Bran stated.

"What reason does she have to be anxious of me? We are... _were_  closer than most."

"Perhaps that is why. You were close. Mayhaps, she does not know how to behave around you anymore."

Jon walked to where Bran was and crouched to look into his eyes.  
"What aren't you telling me, cousin?", he asked.

"I could ask you the same, Your Grace."

Jon breathed deep.  
  
Bran was amongst his most trusted advisors. Jon would've trusted him with his life. Jon bent his head for a few moments and when next Bran saw Jon's eyes, he only saw determination.

"I love her, and I want to marry her if she'll have me."

Bran found himself smiling.

"It took you long enough to admit it, even to yourself. You know where I stand on this. If Arya agrees, you have my blessing."

"Will she agree?", Jon asked softly.

"There isn't much Arya would not do for you, Jon. She's loved you all her life, she does not know how to exist any other way. She may be disillusioned right now, you may need to work a little harder to win her back. But, you will win."

 

* * *

 

 

  
"It is rather peaceful here is it not?"

Arya whirled to see Jon standing behind her. She was so lost in her thoughts, she hadn't even heard him approach.

She'd fled to the Godswood to avoid meeting him for as long as she could. There was something strange about Jon now, in the way his eyes followed her every move. The way his gaze searched her face and moved over body, almost as if...they were caressing her. His looks did very peculiar things to her body. Her heart beat faster, and her breathing slowed. She was not used to feeling this way around him.

She had always loved him, but that love had never been expressed. There had never been a loving touch or soft kiss. She was so used to averting her gaze that she had all but forgotten what it felt like to be seen...truly seen.

But now, now when Jon looked at her she felt like she was the only one who existed and that frightened her.

As always, Jon's presence made her heart run wild. She waited for him to join her where she stood, in front of the heart tree.

"It's more than peaceful. It's home.", Arya answered when Jon stood beside her.

Jon smiled before answering, "It is home. I breathe easier by just being here." For a moment they both stood in silence, then Arya felt Jon reach out and hold her hand.

He turned her to face him as he lifted her hand to kiss it.

Arya saw a degree of hesitation cross his face. He was troubled about something.

"What is it, Jon? What are you concerned about?", she could not stop herself from asking.

"Do you suppose that you could ever call any place other than the North your home?", he asked.

Jon understood his error the moment he felt Arya stiffen.

"Why are you asking me this? Are you here to do your duty, Your Grace...and further strengthen your kingdom by building alliances?", she all but spat at him in anger. She had expected such behaviour from a lot of people...but never him.

_The nerve of him!_

Jon looked her in the eyes and said: "Yes, I do want to propose an alliance." Even as he completed his sentence he saw her eyes cool to match the colour of ice.

She snatched her hand from as she turned to go. But she had not taken more than two steps when she felt strong arms close around as Jon pulled her against his chest.

She felt his head bend as his lips touched her ear. "Would you not like to know whose proposal it is that I come bearing?"

"I have no interest in any Lord's proposal.", Arya answered.

"He isn't a Lord."

"I don't care who...", Arya tried to respond but was cut off.

" _He's a king_.", Jon whispered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Right, first off let me apologise for being M.I.A.
> 
> The truth of it is...that basically, I had no clue about what to write next. Thankfully, I think I have some inkling of where I might take the story now. 
> 
> Secondly, to all my readers --- I just want to say THANK YOU! Thank you for not giving up and thank you for loving the story.
> 
> Thirdly, try not to assemble with pitchforks because of the cliff-hanger. Hopefully, the next instalment will make you forget all grievances. 
> 
> Oh and I know...Jon needs to pick up his game. The boy really has no clue :D
> 
>  
> 
> Till Later...

**Author's Note:**

> Please excuse grammatical errors and feel free to point them out.
> 
> Also if you like what you've read please leave a comment. Come to think of it leave a comment even if you didn't like what you've read :)


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